It's a Jungle Out There
by Morrowyn
Summary: Coming back from a Halloween party, an ordinary girl is assaulted. As she escapes, she suddenly finds herself in the world of Bleach. With no way home, she makes the best of her situation while trying not to change things too much. It's a little late for that, though. R&R, please.
1. Flynn Rider

**First Bleach Fanfiction. Please tell me if you want more. Updates will be sporadic.**

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><p>This is the story of how I died. Not at home, surrounded by family, not alone, in some dark alley, but in a world I didn't think existed in the hands of the enemy. Pretty pathetic, right? It gets worse. But, before we get into the nitty gritty, let me tell you how this all started.<p>

It was Halloween, which, in a weird kind of way, actually makes sense. I was dressed as a Shinigami from the popular series Bleach, complete with a fake Zanpakuto and a squad four patch on the inside lining. I was coming home from a party, slightly tipsy I'll admit, but still wholly conscious. My apartment wasn't too far away, so I'd figured I'd walk. A bad idea in hindsight. I managed to cross a few major roads before the nausea hit me, and I ducked into the space between buildings for a breather. In my slightly fuzzed perspective, stepping into the dark was a perfectly safe thing to do, especially since it would get me away from the horde of trick-or-treaters. As the bile in my throat slowly settled, I became aware of the sensation of being watched. Not in the harmless "it's dark outside, let's find a light" kind of way, either. For the first time in my life, I knew what it was to be hunted.

Before I could move - to turn around or go back onto the sidewalk, I can't remember -, I was pulled into the truer dark of the alley by large hands. My mouth and nose were covered before I could muster the courage to scream, and I felt fear clutch at my insides. Now, I'm a trauma nurse. I've treated injuries that twisted my insides, had children die beneath my hands, but in those situations I was always in control. I had to be. For my patients and for myself. Having that control wrenched away in an instant is the most terrifying reality I have ever faced.

"Hey there, pretty girl," a rough, drink heavy voice said in my ear. "Are you ready for some fun?"

All that talk about women "inviting" this kind of attention is total bull. Shihakushos have so much extra fabric, it's ridiculous. And yet, I was still singled out from among the dozens of skimpy dollar store outfits.

I was pulled even further back, and the fear in my mind began to quickly spiral into panic. My mind wasn't at it's sharpest, and I wasn't exactly in the best shape, there was no way I'd be able to escape this situation.

Get a hold of yourself! I mentally slapped myself, my inner voice stern and demanding. This guy's had more to drink than we have, and we're not too far from the street. If we can get loose, we'll be free.

Taking as deep a breath as I could with a hand on my face, I relaxed. Feeling me go limp, my would-be attacker's grip slackened, and I chose that moment to jerk myself from his grasp. He shouted in surprise, and I dashed away as quickly as I could, only to have him catch me by the ankle. I cried out as I hit the ground, only I didn't. Well, not immediately. When I actually did land, I was oddly silent. The grip on my ankle was gone, and so was the chatter of passing trick-or-treaters. My nausea was back, stronger than before, but I muscled my way past my gag reflex as I pushed myself to my knees. I was no longer in the dark, and for a moment I dared hope that someone had noticed my plight and had come to help, but closer examination of my surroundings ruled out that possibility.

The walls around me were not concrete. Nor was the ground beneath me. Rather, they were made of some smooth white stone that seemed to go on forever in every direction. The roofs of the buildings were somewhat asiatic in style, with dark shingles that nicely accented the walls. It all seemed vaguely familiar.

"Hey, you! What squad are you from?"

Looking ahead, I was surprised to find someone dressed in a Shihakusho approaching me. Was there some sort of Bleach Con going on? Why wasn't I invited?

"Hey, are you deaf?" The guy bent down so his face was far too close to mine. "What. Squad. Are. You. In?"

I frowned. "I'm not an idiot," I ground out, standing. The man stepped back, a semi-apologetic look on his face. "You just caught me by surprise is all. I'm in squad Four."

A sneer contorted his face. "Oh, you're one of them, then. Run along," he added, turning away from me and waving his hand dismissively. "You won't be any use against the Ryoka, anyway."

_Oho_, my inner voice said in realization. _He's from Eleven. Put him in his place!_

"Excuse me?" He turned back to me, his expression condescending. I grabbed his Shihakusho and dragged his face down to mine. "Who do you think you are, huh? Hah, you're probably the type who says he doesn't need anesthetic and then screams to his mommy during surgery, aren't you? Aren't you!"

He quailed before my anger, nodding vigorously. I let go of him, properly disgusted. "Next time you go dissing Four, remember who puts you back together."

"Yes, ma'am, of course ma'am." He scrambled to his feet, running off clumsily.

_Now_, I thought sagely. _What was that he said about Ryoka?_

An explosion made me jump, and I looked up in time to see a blinding light in the sky dissolve into four pinpoints that flew in different directions.

Needless to say, I was speechless. Looking around, I realized why the walls looked so familiar. Pulling at my sword, a yanked it from its scabbard and drew a finger along the blade. My blood fell to the floor, bright red against the white stone, and I shuddered. This was real, and I had no idea how I was going to survive.


	2. Enterprise

**Thank you, Harlz96, for the review.**

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><p>I seem to have neglected part of my narration. I apologize for the slip, and will make up for it here. My name is Gabriella Castillo. I was born in Ciudad Chihuahua, Mexico, and spent my formative years there. My family emigrated to the United States when I was around eight years old. I got my citizenship before entering college, and went to medical school on a full scholarship. Bleach entered my life when I was in my late teens - or was it early twenties? - and, as my Halloween costume will have no doubt told you, is still a big part of it. As a Hispanic, I of course identified with Chad, nevermind that his precious necklace is just a ten pesos piece. As a woman there was Rukia, Yoruichi, Tatsuki, Ichigo's sisters, and even Rangiku to choose from as potential role models. But I always liked Orihime. She was gentle and sweet, and had not a single bad bone in her body. She went through so much, so selflessly, and would have been stronger if someone had just let her fight her own battles for once.<p>

Thus, as I stood watching the Shiba cannon ball disintegrate above me, I came to a conclusion. I would be the one who let Orihime grow. After all, I was stuck there anyway. Might as well make the most of my situation. The little princess would get no coddling from me, no siree. That girl was going to be prepared for the struggles that awaited her, and no one, especially not Ichigo Kurosaki, was going to stop me.

If I remembered correctly, Orihime and Uryuu were together right now, and were probably facing that one guy with the fly away Zanpakuto.

Damn it! If I had even remotely the amount of training a basic Shinigami recruit had, I would be able to find them. But no, I was a fake, an _otherworlder_. My Zanpakuto may have been sharp, but it was an Asauchi at best. I would be getting no help.

_Oh, well,_ I shrugged. _We'd best start walking, then._ Left hand on the hilt of my sword, I dragged my right hand along the wall.

Treating the Seireitei like a maze was a good idea in my head, but it soon got me very lost. I couldn't even hear fighting, and I knew I should have definitely heard fighting. A shadow crossed my vision, and I jumped back, falling on my behind. A slender black cat stood in the middle of the road, and alarm bells sounded in my mind.

"Yoruichi!" I shouted, and the cat looked at me in surprise. "You _are_ Yoruichi Shihoin, right?" _Are you stupid? Who else could she be?_

The cat looked me up and down, taking my measure, no doubt. As far as I knew, there were no other black cats in Soul Society, but then again, if there weren't her disguise would be useless.

"Who are you?"

The masculine voice threw me off for a second, but I replied quickly. "I'm Gabriella Castillo, and...and..." _Jesus, now what?_

I floundered for a moment, grasping at straws for what to say next. Suddenly, there was a pressure on my chest, and I fell back. Yoruichi was standing on me, her face wrinkled into a snarl.

"You will tell me how you know my name, Gabriella Castillo," she spat, placing a paw on my throat. "Or I will kill you."

Ah, I'd forgotten Bleach's blatant disregard for life.

"I'm from the future!" I blurted without thinking. "You'll fight Soi Fon and she'll use Suzumebachi against you and still lose."

Yoruichi's cat eyes were wide, and I continued on, rambling almost.

"Ichigo is going to fight Kenpachi they'll both pass out. Chad's going to fight Kyoraku and lose, Uryuu's going to lose his powers, Orihime Teams up with Squad Eleven, and Rukia's execution is moved up over and over again."

By the time I'd finished my rant, I was panting, and regretting. What if, by telling Yoruichi all this, I'd somehow changed the timeline? _At least you kept quiet about Aizen,_ my inner voice congratulated, and I conceded the point.

Yoruichi removed her paw, and instead sat on my chest. "The future, you say?"

I nodded perhaps a bit too enthusiastically. "My superiors are worried that there might be others capable of time travel," I said, borrowing a backstory from Star Trek. "And I've been sent to make sure that everything happens as it should."

She regarded me strangely for a moment - not that I blame her - and then hopped off my chest. I sat up as she spoke. "I find it hard to believe that someone with an Asauchi was sent on such an important mission."

I gave a self deprecating scoff. "Yes, well. I admit, I wasn't the first choice, but the technology used to send me here is unstable, and they weren't willing to risk an officer."

_If she falls for that, I will permanently lose faith in the Onmitsukido._

Yoruichi nodded. "Yes, that makes sense. Do you have any way of contacting your superiors?"

"Ah, no, not exactly."

"Then how will you know when something happens that isn't supposed to?"

I hadn't thought so hard since my RN exam. "I've memorized the proper series of events. Besides," I added, shrugging as if it was no big deal. "If I fail, they will just send someone else."

If cats could express pity, Yoruichi would have. Which was good, I wanted that. If she saw me as just another piece of cannon fodder, she would be that much more inclined to leave me alone. Though, if I was being honest, I was just relieved she believed anything that came out of my mouth. Wasn't she supposed to be Special Ops or something?

"So," she said, tail twitching. "Is there somewhere you need to be, specifically?"

_Hallelujah._ "Do you know where Orihime is?"


	3. Peeping Tom

**Quick question: Do you mind vulgarity? I feel like it might be necessary with some of the characters, if only to keep them _in_ character.**

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><p>It should be known that I'm not exactly in the best of shape. In fact, I'm probably a little on the heavy side. That said, I am not built to jump from roof to roof. It just isn't done. Ever. Under any circumstances. Period.<p>

Try telling _that_ to Yoruichi.

"Did you not go through the academy?" She snapped at me as I paused to catch my breath. "Why would such an important mission be entrusted to someone so weak?"

Now that was just rude.

"My superiors were more concerned with my knowledge of history than my physical ability," I replied angrily. "On the off chance that I made it, they wanted to be sure I knew my stuff." And boy did I know my stuff.

Yoruichi sniffed dismissively, and I had to run after her again as she took off. My inability to leap across the rooftops had slowed us down, and I'd be lying if I said I wasn't a little guilty about that. What was I going to do when we found Orihime, anyway? Tell her the same bull shit lie I had Yoruichi? And then what?

I forced myself to focus on the task at hand. Worrying would only throw me into shock, and that was the worst thing for me now, especially with Yoruichi around to witness. Best leave the panic attack for a moment of privacy - if I got one. Hell, what was I going to go once Rukia was saved?

Nope, nope, no worrying, nope.

"You know," I called ahead. "If you can lead me to Ikkaku Madarame, I can take it from there."

Yoruichi stopped, turning to regard me with her stoic golden eyes. "Madarame?"

I nodded, glad for the rest. "He should have fought with Ichigo by now, and Orihime will join up with him eventually."

Yoruichi's expression told me I made no sense, but that was fine. People from the future never did.

Right?

_I'm gonna die, aren't I?_

_Don't be ridiculous,_ my inner voice scolded. _We've got this! Plus, Orihime will believe anything..._

Well, _that _was certainly true.

Confidence restored, I followed Yoruichi down a winding path that definitely would have been shorter if I knew shunpo. Eventually, and I mean eventually, we approached a giant doorway, the Japanese characters for the number four emblazoned on the archway. I only recognized them because they were also embroidered inside my shihakusho.

"Madarame is inside here," Yoruichi said over her shoulder. "You will be fine, I trust?"

I nodded, smiling to cover my anxiety. "Yeah, no problem. This is my squad anyway."

She stared at me stoically for a moment, and I worried that she'd perhaps come to her senses and realized how stupid my excuses were. Even after she leapt away, I stood doubting whether or not I'd survive this experience.

I slapped myself quickly. Pessimism would only spiral into panic, and I needed my wits about me. Ikkaku first.

Drawing a deep, not-quite-encouraging breath, I stepped into the Squad Four Barracks.

It was surprisingly empty. Although, now that I think about it, medical personnel would have been needed all over the Seireitei after Ichigo and Ganju's recent rampage. Only the skeleton crew would be left to tend the facilities here, which worked well for me. Finding Ikkaku might have been easier had I known how to sense reiatsu, but the loud, obnoxious protests one might expect from a member of Eleven worked just fine.

"Get off me!" The shouting was accompanied by the sound of shattering glass, and I shook my head in disbelief. I knew Tite Kubo had exaggerated Eleven's aversion for medicine as a way of explaining their dislike for Four, but throwing a tantrum? That was just ridiculous.

"What are you, four years old?" Time seemed to freeze as I realized I'd spoken aloud. The young woman in the room seized the opportunity to escape, dodging past me and leaving me alone with her - now my - patient.

Ikkaku Madarame is a lot more intimidating when he isn't animated. Taller and more broad than I'd imagined, he had a pointed chin and sharp cheekbones made more prominent by his shaved head. He was glaring at me, his dark eyes holding a dangerous light that had my knees shaking.

"What was that?" He snarled, face contorting menacingly.

I swallowed, trying desperately to gather my wavering courage. "I said you're acting like a four year old. Look at you, throwing a fit over what - a couple of stitches?" I forced myself to laugh as his scowl deepened. "The way you go on you'd think it was open heart surgery."

His eyes widened, his expression changing completely. "That exists?"

I'd forgotten that Soul Society was a little _behind the times_, as it were. My smile was genuine as I continued. "Oh, yes, it's very real. Although," I added, looking around the room with very real disapproval. "Given what you have here, I doubt it would be possible."

Ikkaku sagged with obvious relief, and I was reminded of his animated self. Knowing this stranger as well as I did was an...odd sensation. Like I'd seen something I knew I shouldn't have. Shaking my head, I rolled up my sleeves and smiled.

"Now, then," I said. "Shall we begin?"


	4. In His Dreams

**No one answered my question in the last chapter, so I'm just gonna take that as a no. That said, very minor vulgarity warning this chapter. More about Gabby's situation - and more characters - will hopefully be introduced next time.**

**Also, thanks to everyone who followed and faved! I wasn't getting alerts for a while there, or else I would have said thank you sooner. I appreciate all you support.**

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><p>"Senpai! Captain Kurotsuchi is on his way!"<p>

Squad Four was so adorable. Barely there an hour and I'd been accepted into their fold. I nodded to the young man who'd so kindly given us the warning, and turned to Ikkaku as he scampered off.

"Mayuri's going to ask you questions. Don't answer them."

He looked at me incredulously. I was still in the middle of bandaging him, and our faces came close every so often. "What are you talking about?"

I paused when my face was next to his, looking him in the eye. "Don't tell him anything."

Just as I pulled away, a man walked in, followed closely by a petite young woman with a long dark braid worn over her shoulder.

How to describe Mayuri? He was tall, broad shouldered, and looked vaguely like a cross between Frankenstein and a killer depressed clown. He had a wide mouth, filled with big teeth that drew the eye. His makeup was extreme, and my pores cried out in sympathy. His hat was defying gravity, and I took the opportunity to officially question anime physics.

The Captain of Squad Twelve leered at me, and I looked away as expected, finishing with Ikkaku's bandage. My hands lingered, fumbling with the gauze as I hoped to catch the conversation.

"Well, Madarame-kun," the captain began, looking the third seat over. "Do you have anything to say about the ryoka who did all this...damage?"

Ikkaku glanced at me, questions in his eyes, and I focused on making the final knot pretty. He lay back on the cot, sighing dramatically. "I dunno what to tell you, sir. There isn't much I can say."

Mayuri narrowed his eyes, and I watched him raise his hand, forefinger extended. Ducking behind Ikkaku's bed instinctively, I narrowly missed being blown up by whatever kido he'd launched my way. The wall behind me was missing a significant circular chunk, and my heart stuttered in my chest.

"Are you sure have nothing to say, Madarame-kun?" Mayuri laughed his signature laugh, a nasty _kukuku_ sound, and I pressed a hand to my chest to still my galloping heart. I was half inclined to chew him out for acting violently in a hospital, but a young woman in the hall beat me to it and received a mini explosion of her own for her trouble.

"Mayuri-sama," Nemu said quietly, and the captain glared at her most violently.

"You too, Nemu? Do you want me to cut you up again?"

At that, I was fully prepared to have him "escorted" from the building - did Squad Four have orderlies? -, but Ikkaku spoke before I could, his face turned away from the captain, and his gaze on me.

"It's not that I don't want to talk," he began slowly, eyeing me as if I was supposed to telepathically tell him what to say. "I really don't know anything. Not the ryoka's goal, not their destination. Nothing."

Was I supposed to be encouraging him? Oh, man, how was I supposed to encourage him?

Mayuri tilted his head back, his perma-sneer growing wider as he spoke. "What, then? You just lost the fight and came back?"

"Yep," Ikkaku turned to look at the captain. "By the way, I don't remember what the enemy looked or sounded like either."

_Idiot!_

Mayuri's sneer morphed quickly into a full on snarl, and he raised his hand, yelling, "Too bad then! You will receive punishment for your failure!"

I remember this moment in the manga and anime as one of the most iconic. Mayuri about to strike the prone Ikkaku, and Zaraki stopping him with epic grace, the angle Tite Kubo chose for that panel perfect for emphasizing the height difference between captains. Live action, it was very different. I couldn't pause or hold the page, staring in fangirl delight. Quickly, almost too fast to follow, a large hand grabbed Mayuri's wrist with visibly crushing force. Following the hand up, I found myself looking up at the most intimidating man I had ever seen.

He was head and shoulders taller than Mayuri, his shihakusho hanging open to reveal muscle no gym could ever grant. He had a slender face with a scar running down its left side and over one glaring narrow eye. The other was covered by the eyepatch that ate his reiatsu, its straps outlining the harsh contours of his cheekbones. Everything about him screamed dangerous. Of course, this was nothing new. It was one of the reasons he was such a fan favorite. But standing there with him looking down at me with curiosity in his green eye, I felt unimaginably small. And out of shape.

_Fuck you, Kenpachi Zaraki._

"I'm surprised," he said sarcastically. "Since when do you have authority over the members of another division, Kurotsuchi?"

"Zaraki," Mayuri snarled as he pulled his arm from the taller captain's grip. Cradling his wrist, he spat at Ikkaku over his shoulder. "Since your captain is here, I will take my leave. Let's go, Nemu!"

As the captain-lieutenant duo left the room, tension I hadn't realized had built up flowed from my shoulders, and I sighed. My hands were shaking, and I gripped Ikkaku's sickbed a bit harder than necessary as I stood to steady them.

"Well," I said with false cheer as I made my way toward the door. "My work is done. I'll see you around-."

"Hold it!" Ikkaku grabbed hold of the edge of my shihakusho, and I spun on my heel, shoving him back against his bed.

"What do you think you're doing?" I demanded, perhaps a bit too close to his face to be appropriate. He had a bewildered expression on his face that said he had no clue what I was talking about. "If I so much as hear a _rumor_ about you stepping one foot out of this bed, I will personally rub salt in your wounds. Do I make myself clear?" His eyes were comically wide as he nodded, lying back obediently with a gratifyingly frightened look on his face.

"Wow," a child's voice exclaimed. "I didn't know Baldie had a girlfriend!"

I looked up at the previously empty space beyond Zaraki's left shoulder. Perched there was the expected little girl, complete with goofy smile and adorable bob haircut. Her hair was pink, but I'd let that slide. For now.

I snorted, propping my hip against the bed and crossing my arms over my chest. "He wishes." The little lieutenant laughed uproariously, and I smiled. "Again, my work is done, and I have other patients. Toodles," I added, waving over my shoulder as I exited the room without looking back. Catching the arm of an older man running down the hall with supplies in his arms, I said, "Prepare a room for Captain Zaraki." His eyes widened, his face paling as he nodded.


	5. Flashback

**Because people don't sit around and describe themselves, here's a link to what I imagine Gabby looks like, only with fuller eyebrows and brown eyes. (Just delete the spaces) ****www . media . glamsham download/ wallpaper/ celebrities/ images/ b/ barbara-mori-03-12x9 . jpg.**

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><p>It had been around a day and a half since I'd treated Ikkaku, and slowly but surely the hospital was filling up. The patients were mostly unranked shinigami, but I caught a glimpse of Chad - no one else looked like <em>that<em> - and possibly Uryuu. I hadn't treated them, of course. There were more experienced members on staff now, complete with kido. I'd been largely ignored by the ranking officers when we crossed paths, aside from a curious glance or two. Eventually I'd have to confront Unohana, and the Lord only knew how _that _would go.

I sighed, leaning my head back against the wall I was sitting against. With all the hubbub over the ryoka, it had proven rather easy to slip away into the room I'd had set aside for Captain Zaraki for a much needed panic attack.

Bottling things up wasn't exactly my forte. I was blunt, sarcastic, and as honest as I could afford to be. If I thought something, I said it. Masking my discomfort had been taxing, but the influx of patients had kept me blessedly distracted. Now I was finally alone, ready to cope with the sudden realization that I was _here, _this was _happening, _and my body refused to cooperate. I ran through the possibility that I was dead, or maybe in a coma, but I was still pretty calm.

_Maybe your body knows what's up more than we do, _my inner voice suggested. _Bodies can be weird like that._

I hummed in agreement. _I hope so. If I don't freak out now, it either won't happen or will hit me at the most in opportune time._

Rolling my stiff shoulders, I made to stand, but a sharp pain in my right ankle had me falling to my knees. I pulled up the leg of my hakama, stifling a gasp when I saw the purple bruise there.

_How...?_

I knew how. The bastard in the alley. When he grabbed me, made me fall, he must have -.

_Yay! You're hyperventilating, that's good right?_

Very. I'd coached women through the very same shock I was now experiencing, the fear and total desecration of all that I was. I knew the steps to reaching equilibrium, but that didn't matter. I had been violated! Unceremoniously seized from the street like some-like a-.

Like a victim.

All my pride welled in me at the notion, but a part of me, the scared little girl part that never goes away, knew it was the truth. For all my pride, all the defense classes, I was just another victim to some people.

_Well, you're not some people! Now stop sniveling, get up, and get even._

I liked the sound of that.

I'd just pulled myself to my feet when the door was opened by an older woman, her eyes widening with surprise when she saw me.

"Ah," she said. "So you were already here. Lieutenant Kusajishi was quite insistent that you be the one to treat Captain Zaraki, and Third Seat Madarame agreed. He is being brought here now."

I just stood there for a moment, my private thoughts a jumble. Clearing my throat, I replied, "Of course, thanks for telling me."

She nodded and withdrew, leaving me alone to prepare for the captain's arrival. Hurrying frantically, I poured a bowl of warm water from one of the sinks along the back wall, adding a bit of rubbing alcohol to kill any nasties that might be swimming in the pipes. I'd piled a few rolls of gauze and some fluffy white towels on the counter when the door finally opened to admit a bleeding, and scowling, Kenpachi Zaraki.

His expression softened some as he looked me over, that curious glint in his eyes again. He'd lost the eyepatch, but I'd known he would. He looked better without it, anyway.

I crossed my arms and popped my hip. "Are you going to sit, or just stare at me all day?"

His expression grew guarded, and I had to remind myself that this man was actually a lot smarter that he looked.

_A lot._

He plopped himself down on the bed, slouching forward with his arms propped on his knees. His shihakusho was in tatters, as was his captain's haori, the white cloth stained brown with dried blood. It was probably stuck to his injuries.

I dunked a towel into my water-alcohol mixture, pressing the wet cloth to the tears in Zaraki's clothing, lifting its layers as it came loose from his hands shook as his muscle moved beneath them, and I swallowed as much of my fear as I was able. While I knew he would never hurt me, my body quaked with instinctive apprehension. A man his size could do anything to anyone.

_But he won't,_ I assured myself as I got him to remove his shirt and haori. _He's not that kind of guy._

When my hands touched him again, they were steady.


	6. You won't like me when I'm angry

By the time I'd finished bandaging Zaraki's chest, Ikakku had come in, followed by a flamboyant man I assumed - correctly - was Yumichika. That boy set off so many gaydar alarms, it isn't funny. I couldn't have been the only one to notice, and my respect for the Eleventh Squad grew exponentially.

_I guess strength really is all that matters to them. _

I was washing my hands when a man with a sparse mustache came running in with a woman under his arm. Yachiru sat on his shoulder, pink hair adorably untidy.

"Give Boobies to Baldie's girlfriend, Maki-Maki," she said, pointing at me excitedly. "She can fix her."

If I were an anime character, I probably would have made an interesting face. As it was, I just rolled my eyes and walked over to the other side of the room where another cot stood against the wall. The guy - Aramaki - fumbled with the woman in his arms before setting her down gently.

One thing was for certain, she was definitely Orihime. If the nickname hadn't given it away, the assets that had inspired it would have. Although, I was pleased to note that they weren't nearly as disproportionate as Tite Kubo had made them out to be. A C at most. In Japan, and on a girl as slight of build as Orihime, they certainly _seemed _larger, but I was willing to bet we were the same cup size.

_These are weird thoughts to be having about someone who's unconscious and needs our help._

I scowled and checked her pulse. _Shut up._

"What made her pass out?"

Aramaki blushed and twiddled his thumbs until I found tender flesh on the back of her neck. That was gonna bruise.

_Too bad we don't know any kido,_ I lamented as I wracked my mind for a way to wake her up gently.

_Says who? Try it! Healing kido doesn't use incantations._

_We have no training, _I objected even as I flexed my fingers.

_Does anyone? Go on, try._

Just then, Orihime stirred, and I was spared the necessity of making a fool of myself.

Her eyes were dark, like charcoal, and very unfocused.

"Hey!" I snapped my fingers in front of her face. "Earth to Orihime, calling Orihime!" Her pupils dilated quickly, and she looked at my hand in surprise.

"Eh? Where am I?"

"Hey! Boobies is a awake!" Yachiru pounced on the teenager's abdomen, and I winced. "Hi, Boobies!"

"Eh? Who are you?" Seriously? Not even an ouch?

Whatever, time for my great escape. "Well, I'm not needed anymore, so I'll just be going."

"Hold it right there," Ikkaku grabbed hold of my arm before I could get out the door. "You're not going anywhere until you tell me how you knew Captain Kurotsuchi was going to ask questions."

"Women's intuition," I said blandly. "Can I go now?"

Ikkaku scowled, and Orihime gasped. "Hey, how did you know my name?"

"Chad mentioned it."

"Chad's here?"

_Way to go, Bungler MacBungleson._

I scowled. "Yeah, he's here, along with Uryuu and Ganju. Before you ask, no, I don't know where Ichigo is, though I imagine it's somewhere with Yoruichi. Can I go now?" At this point, I was too hungry to care if I got caught out of character. There had to be a canteen somewhere, right?

Orihime was looking at me with wide eyes, her expression entirely too innocent for someone so well endowed. "Are you psychic?"

I resisted the urge to roll my eyes. "Yes, I'm totally psychic."

"Bullshit."

I turned to look at Ikkaku, keeping my face as neutral as possible. "Even if it is, it's not like you know the difference. Now, I've been around people far too long, and I've run out of fucks to give. If you don't mind, I need to go replenish them before I lose my job."

At first, I thought the Joker had somehow been transported to the Seireitei with me, which would have been awesome - I make a rad Harley Quinn. Then, I realized the voice laughing was too deep to be Jack Nipier, and I looked up at the terrifying sight of a smiling Kenpachi Zaraki.

"I like you, girl," the wild look in his eyes made the words more of a threat than a compliment. "Who are you?"

I swallowed my fear, forcing my voice steady. "Gabriella Castillo." I crossed my arms to stop my shaking, and his smile widened.

"Your name is hard to say," Yachiru complained. "I'm gonna call you-."

"Gabby. You're gonna call me Gabby."

The little lieutenant looked up at me with wide, surprised eyes. I'd bet no one had chosen their own nickname before.

"Are you hispanic, Gabby-chan?" Orihime asked, and I had to smile.

"Observant, good for you." She blushed, and I felt bad about my sarcasm. Just a bit, but still. "Look, a lot of shit's gonna go down, and I'd rather not deal with it on an empty stomach. You," I pointed at Orihime. "Tell the Captain what he needs to know. You," I stabbed Ikkaku in the gut with my knuckle. "Sit down before I hurt you. And you,"I pointed at Yachiru. "Stay cute. It'll make life easier."

Officially branded a lunatic, I left the hospital room in search of food.


	7. Sassifrass

**Short chapter is short.**

* * *

><p>After finding somewhere to eat and helping myself to unhealthy amounts of white rice, I was better able to assess what an idiot I'd been. In front of a Captain, no less.<p>

Whatever, it was just Zaraki. Not like he'd judge me.

"You!"

I froze where I stood, turning around hesitantly. "Me?"

A tall man with carefully styled blond hair and spectacles - not glasses - approached me with a cross expression on his pinched face. Belatedly, I recognized him as the conceited Third Seat of the Fourth Squad that Tite Kubo had included on blank pages as comic relief.

"You," he said in a surprisingly deep voice. "You treated Zaraki Kenpachi, yes?"

"Umm, yeah?" I had a feeling I knew where this was going.

"Explain why he's going on a rampage!"

Ah, yep. I totally knew where this was going. Ignoring the yelling man, I rushed past him toward where I knew the Ryoka were being held. The closer I got, the more I could hear panicked screams.

Geeze, was subtlety even in his vocabulary?

Shoving the door open, I entered in time to hear Ganju announce the captain's name. Zaraki was standing in a pile of dust and stone, and I groaned loud enough to be noticed.

"You realize that's coming out of my pay, right?"

Ikkaku scowled. "Why?"

I rolled my eyes and leaned against the doorframe. "I patched him up. I'm responsible for anything he does afterward."

"Didn't you know this was going to happen?" Yumichika asked disdainfully. "You seem to know everything else."

"I _did _know," I replied. "I just forgot how explosive it was going to be." That wasn't entirely true, but whatever.

Zaraki barked out a laugh, looking down at me at what I assumed was approval. "Tell me, Gabriella," the way he said my name had me shivering. "Will there be any fun on the way to this execution?"

I placed my hands on my hips. "Honey, you won't even get there. You'll be too busy having a _beast _of a fight."

He threw back his head and laughed, a terrifying sound. "Perfect!"

"Wait," Orihime held her hand up. "If the Captain isn't going to stop it, who will?"

I smiled at her, making the conscious decision to throw away any pretense of ignorance. "Ichigo will be there, along with Renji, Kyoraku, Ukitake, Rangiku, and Hitsugaya."

The names meant nothing to the Ryoka, but Ganju and the shinigami recognized the importance.

"Three captains?" Ikkaku asked, surprised. "And two Lieutenants? How the hell do you know this?"

At this point he'd invaded my personal space, and I pushed him away with my index finger. "Let's just say it's my woman's intuition."

"Who are you?" We turned to Uryuu, who pushed his glasses further up his nose. "How do you know all this?"

How to answer this? "Well," I began. "Once upon a time, in a land far, far away, I died. The end."

"Woah!" Orihime exclaimed. "Twist ending!"

I rolled my eyes. "Look, are we going or not?"

"We?" I looked at Yumichika. "Can a woman like you even keep up?"

_The hell he say about us?_

Ignoring my inner voice's anger, I cleared my throat and smiled as sweetly as possible. "Oh, Yumichika, you seem ignorant of the fact that putting people back together requires intimate knowledge of taking them apart."

Kenpachi laughed again, and everyone around me took a step back. Good, let them fear me. Maybe I'll stay alive a bit longer.


	8. Aristocats

Yumichika may have had a point about me keeping up, but it didn't take long for Yachiru to lead us to a very familiar dead end.

"This is why I hate letting the Lieutenant lead," Ikkaku griped loudly. "I told you this would happen!"

Yachiru turned around in her perch on Zaraki's shoulder, a twisted expression on her face.

"Actually," I interrupted. "This is exactly where we're supposed to be. And we're right on time. Good job, Yachiru."

She beamed at me, sticking out her tongue at Ikkaku, who glared impressively.

Zaraki looked at me over his shoulder, and I was beginning to question the sanity of telling him about the fight waiting for him. Hopefully he'd get a kick out of my pun.

_Beast of a fight, indeed._

A savage smile crossed his face and he turned back to the cul de sac. "How shameless!" He yelled, still smiling. "Sneaking around like that! Show yourselves! Hiding your reiatsu and stalking others isn't something a Captain should do!"

"You certainly speak with authority," a masculine voice replied from nowhere. "Are you aware of the foolishness you are committing?"

Everyone, excluding Zaraki, Yachiru, and me, fell into defensive crouches. Several seconds later, four distinct figures rose in the air, landing with a unanimous crash on the black shingles of the roof. I remember this scene in the manga as an exposition of sorts for the new characters, but, recognizing Tousen, Hisagi, Komamura, and Iba like I did, it wasn't quite the _Oh shit_ moment I'm sure Kubo had been going for.

Besides, Zaraki wins.

Again, none of them really looked like their manga selves. Except for Komamura. That bucket on his head was kinda recognizable. Hisagi had his facial scars and tattoos, Iba had his sunglasses, and I had a hard time believing Tousen was Japanese.

Did Soul Society manage all the souls in the world, or just Japan's?

_A question for someone who'd know_, my inner voice snarked, and I scowled.

"Zaraki," Tousen asked in a condescending tone. "Did you lose your morality when you lost that fight? Where are you taking the ryoka?"

"Four captain level people," Aramaki stammered. "No way."

"Calm down," Yumichika scolded. "In terms of numbers, we have the upper hand."

I snorted derisively. "What makes you think you'll be fighting?" I had to stop stealing people's lines.

Thankfully, Zaraki didn't notice. He propped his sword on his shoulder excitedly. "Four on one...that's not even enough to test my sword with."

The two captains and their lieutenants seemed surprised.

"I have heard of your strength," Komamura said in a surprisingly intelligible voice. "But you think too highly of yourself, Zaraki Kenpachi."

Ugh, would they just fight already? I'd read this conversation a thousand time before, hearing it wasn't any cooler.

Zaraki delivered his "come at me together!" spiel, and Yachiru got the gang ready to go.

"Are you coming with us, Gabby-chan?" Orihime asked sweetly, and I honestly had to think about it.

"Nah," I answered, shoving my hands into my pockets. "I'll be of better use here."

Her brows furrowed worriedly. "Well, alright. If you say so..."

I waved as they ran off in search of Ichigo. Turning back to the guys, I sat crosslegged on the floor and leaned against one white wall. I couldn't sense reiatsu, so a battle between captains shouldn't affect me the way it would a true shinigami. Hopefully.

Plus, I really wanted to watch a fight without getting into one, myself. Zaraki would ensure that.

Hisagi and Iba stood in front of their respective captains, swords drawn, and I began a mental count down. As I hit zero, Ikkaku and Yumichika appeared with obnoxious flamboyance.

"You're late," I called out, just to mess with Ikkaku. As expected he turned to glare at me.

"How the fuck do you _know_ this shit?"

I smiled daintily. "I'm a woman, Ikkaku." As if that explained anything.

Yumichika raised his blade and propped it over his shoulder, mimicking his Captain unconsciously. "Are you not going to fight?"

There was an insult in that, I known there was. Luckily, I had the purrfect comeback. "Ladies don't start fights, Yumichika," I grinned slowly. "We finish them."

Zaraki laughed loudly. "I like you!"

Again, probably an insult. "You're repeating yourself, dear."

Ikkaku and Yumichika took off with Iba and Hisagi, and I settled in to watch the captain's bout.

_Do you think we should tell Komamura about Tousen?_ My inner voice asked as the men fell into battle stances.

_If he asks, _I replied tiredly, knowing he wouldn't.

_What if it just comes up in conversation?_

I snorted quietly. _And why would that happen?_

"Gabriella!" I sat up straight as Zaraki looked at me. "Anything I should know about these two?"

Jesus Christ on a stick! "One's a real man and the other is a wolf in sheep's clothing," I supplied quickly. _Do you know the future, inner me?_

The voice sniffed pompously. _I'm a woman._

I scowled. Inner voice's name was officially Karma.


	9. Dramatic Irony

Guess what?

I had my phone on me the whole time.

It was in my pocket, its screen cracked and the battery dead. My Tardis case was still intact, thankfully.

_If I had noticed this earlier, could I have called home?_ I wondered. _Does Soul Society even get service?_

I sighed, looking back to the decimated cul de sac. Somehow, I'd managed not to be caught in the blast Komamura's blade had caused when it hit Zaraki. Honestly, I blame anime physics.

_You've blamed everything on anime physics,_ my inner - _Karma_ - said sarcastically.

I ignored her. That voice had been in my head for a little over two years now, and I'd always just assumed it was a coping mechanism of some sort developed after holding in one too many snarky comments. To discover it was sentient and knew things I didn't despite being a figment of _my _imagination was unsettling.

_The imaginary only has the power to hurt you if you let it,_ I reminded myself. Karma scoffed, and I payed extra attention to the fight.

It wasn't very interesting, to be honest. The manga had provided a close up on everyone's faces and their words, but from where I sat all I could see was two guys leaping at another one, then being thrown back, then leaping again.

Not fun.

To make matters worse, it was becoming increasingly difficult to refrain from calling Tousen out on his bullshit. He just kept droning on and on about how Zaraki was defiling the peace of the Gotei Thirteen. Ugh. Seriously. Just shut up, already.

_You could tell them,_ Karma said in my mind. _He'd kill you, but you could tell them._

I scowled, pulling my legs closer to me with a wince. The bruise on my ankle had begun to throb after I sat down, and, in retrospect, running on it had not been a good idea.

_Ooh, now's a good chance to try that healing kido!_ Karma urged, and I could have sworn I felt and encouraging nudge on my shoulder. _Go on, try!_

While her betrayal still rankled, I rolled up my hakama anyway, curling my lip at the purple hand print there. My heart sped up at the sight of it, and I forced my breathing steady. Wrapping my hands around it, I pointedly ignored the lies being spun out in the cul de sac, and _willed_ the bruise to disappear.

Nothing happened.

_Well, that settles it. _I leaned back against the wall and chewed at my lip, watching listlessly as Zaraki was swallowed by a giant balloon. Really, it was much more impressive in the manga.

"You are injured."

I jumped, placing a hand on my chest as I looked up at the masked Komamura. "Jesus Christ," I gasped. "Warn a girl, will ya?"

He mumbled an apology, his voice guttural and deep, words muffled by his bucket hat. "Tell me," he said gently. "Which squad are you from?"

I smiled up at him. "Four, why?"

He crossed his arms and turned to look at Tousen's massive Bankai. "What has a woman from Four running around with Eleven's Captain?"

"It is an unlikely sight, I admit," I said sheepishly. "But it was either come with him or get thrown in jail for not stopping him. Besides," I added. "I'm the one who patched him up, so this is kind of my fault."

"Somehow," he said quietly. "I doubt being injured would have stopped him."

I snorted softly. "You're probably right." Looking up at him, I smiled encouragingly. "You know you don't have to wear that, right?"

Suddenly, he became incredibly stiff. "You don't know what you're talking about."

"I do, actually," I sniffed, crossing my arms petulantly. "You aren't ugly. Terrifying, sure, but not ugly."

He didn't reply, and I huffed, blowing a bit of hair from my face. "You don't have to believe me, but I know girls who would kill to have hair that color. Just sayin'."

He hummed gruffly, and I sighed.

The giant black balloon exploded with startling loudness, bits of fabric and the giant rings falling to the ground and disintegrating. Zaraki stood above an injured Tousen, smiling wide despite the injuries that littered his chest.

An irrational anger welled up in me. "Hey, I did _not_ put you back together just for you to fall apart again!"

He ignored me, his smile fading, and he said something I couldn't hear to Tousen and turned away. Tousen, the coward, pressed his blade to Zaraki's back. Beside me, Komamura tensed, and I sighed again. As expected, the big man jumped in front of Zaraki's blade, saving the man who would one day betray him. His bucket hat crumbled, the surprisingly heavy pieces falling to the ground.

I was right to describe him as terrifying. He was every inch a wolf, complete with yellow eyes and canines as long as my fingers and as thick as my thumb. He was also beautiful in the way a wolf was, his tawny fur glistening in the sun, and his snarl awakening a primal fear long forgotten by man.

Long story short, the guy gave me chills.

Looking at him, Zaraki's face split with a grin. "A beast of a fight," he laughed, looking at me. "So this is what you meant."

I resisted the urge to smile. _He got my pun!_

_Our pun,_ Karma corrected, and all levity left me.

_You better not be a zanpakuto,_ I griped. _That's too cliche._

Komamura's Kokujo Tengen Myo'o suddenly appeared above me, massive armored hand crashing onto the ground.

_Unless you're like that,_ I amended. _I could get used to a zanpakuto like that._

Karma didn't reply, and I got the vague impression that I'd insulted her.

Good.


End file.
